


Operation: PBG

by GhostiesandGhoulies



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Baby Groot, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical Cursing, Gen, Major Character Injury, Mild Language, Missions, Nice Peter, Peter and Groot Love Music, Post-Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Pre-Vol 2, Protective Team, Team Dynamics, Team Fluff, baby groot is adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 08:38:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11144844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostiesandGhoulies/pseuds/GhostiesandGhoulies
Summary: An explanation as to why Groot is coming on missions in Vol 2 despite his smallness and the others being worried about him the whole time.AKA Groot is a little shit but he's too adorable to yell at. NO SPOILERS :DThis is my first attempt at Guardians of the Galaxy - take it easy on me <3





	Operation: PBG

**Author's Note:**

> I have probably missed typos - but you know, can't catch them all. Hope you enjoy! Go watch Vol 2 if you haven't already! It was worth every moment.
> 
> I have a mild obsession with Peter Quill -cough- I cosplay him -cough-. Sooo Peter takes some hits and we have a mildly concerned team which I adore in fics. Also I adore when Peter takes to Groot and his simplistic language. So in this, he doesn't understand as well as Rocket, but he has a pretty clean understanding.
> 
> This is set between Vol 1 and Vol 2 :)

  _Literally this whole fic was inspired by this picture of the Star Lord figure with a teensy baby Groot on his shoulder. You're welcome._

 

 

“You wanna what!?”

The outcry echoed throughout the Milano, breaking the relative silence of the starship.

Rocket was glaring down at his significantly smaller bestfriend, arms poised on his hips and hackles raised slightly.

Groot, small as he might be, was doing the pose right back at him. “I am Groot,” came his firm reply.

“No,” the thief growled back immediately, “you're not comin’ with us.”

“I am Groot!”

“No! You're just barely grown enough to be outta your pot!” Rocket shot back much like a scolding parent. “I'm not lettin’ you go.”

“I AM GROOT!” The sapling shouted, though it wasn't much louder than regular speech.

“What's going on?” A new voice broke in.

The two turned to see Peter stopped at the top of the ladder looking at them with a quirked brow. His gaze swept between them with a hint of concern.

“Groot’s wantin’ to go on the mission,” Rocket said, “and I ain't lettin’ him.”

The half Terran trailed his eyes down to the smaller of the two and had to hide a smile at the utterly adorable pout the little tree was sporting. “Gotcha,” he said eloquently. With that, he heaved himself up the rest of the way.

He crouched down and offered Groot a smile, “Well little buddy, I gotta agree with Rocket on this one. I don't want to risk you getting hurt when you're just getting back on your feet.”

He looked up at him with big sad eyes.

“Awww Groot,” Peter carefully scooped the sapling into his hand and brought him against his shoulder in a hug. “Don't worry, you'll be big enough to come with us soon. We just got to let you grow more, okay?” He didn't even notice that he had begun rocking on his heels slightly as though he were rocking a baby.

“..I am Groot?” came the eventual reply.

He chuckled and put him back down, “Yep, I promise.”

Rocket watched the exchange with a roll of his eyes. Of all of them, Peter had definitely taken to Baby Groot the most. It was almost shocking how different he was when dealing with him. His gentle words, his comforting nature, even the paternal affection that seemed to light up his eyes… It was so mushy and gross.

“Whatever,” he huffed, “you're stayin’ here, so go get cozy in bed. We’ll even leave one of Star Jerk’s tapes playin’.”

Peter didn't even bother trying to correct him. “Which volume do you want playing Groot? I'll put it on for you.”

The little tree paused in his trip to his ‘bed’ - which was actually just a spacious pot that had dirt formed to make a pillow and then a little earthen blanket - and looked at him with thought. “I am Groot.”

“Hooked on a Feeling coming right up then,” Peter said with a grin. He was glad to have someone else that enjoyed the music as much as he did. He knew the others had quickly tired of hearing the same songs on an endless repeat but they all had neglected to tell him so.

Groot, on the other hand, had taken to the music instantly. It had only been a month or so before when Peter had entered the main room of the Milano to find the tiny sapling bobbing his head and wiggling his arms to the music with a huge grin plastered on his face. He had immediately joined in, laughing the whole time. It had been the start of their shenanigans; and they hadn't stopped since.

He popped in Awesome Mix Vol 1 and turned up the volume so that it would carry up to the bridge where Groot was.

Drax hummed with thought from nearby, sharpening his blades. “If this song were a person, they might as well be an old friend for how much I hear it.”

Peter stopped and looked at him.

The bulky man noticed and looked back at him, “What?”

He chuckled and shook his head, “Nothing. Nice metaphor though.”

Drax looked a bit perplexed but went back to what he was doing.

“When are we landing for the mission?”

Peter glanced up to find Gamora standing there with her head slightly tilted in question. He had to bite his lip in an effort to keep himself from saying anything about how cute it was.

She gave him a look at his silence. “Quill.”

The half Terran blinked and offered a sheepish grin. “Oh.. uhh soon. I think there was like 15 minutes left.”

“Good. I'm ready to get this over with.”

“I too am ready,” Drax announced, “it has been awhile since I was able to battle without constraint. I am looking forward to breaking some necks.”

“As long as I get to shoot somethin’, I'll be good,” Rocket said as he came down the ladder.

Peter looked to him and then gestured vaguely to the bridge, “Groot settled in?”

The thief nodded, “Yeah, little shit went out like a light soon as the music started.”

“He's been sleeping a lot,” Gamora commented, “think he’s having another growth sequence?”

“I dunno, could be. Might explain his piss poor attitude lately.”

Their leader shrugged, “Or he's just tired of being stuck in here. I would be stir crazy too.”

Rocket huffed in annoyance, “Whatever it is, I'm sick of it.” He glanced up at the male beside him, “So what's our plan, Star Princess?”

Peter sighed and looked to his team. “I have it figured out for the most part but I'm not sure how extraction is gonna go. If things go as anticipated, we’re gonna have a lot of guys on our asses when we’re trying to leave. Things might get hairy.”

“Not if we kill them all,” Drax offered helpfully.

“Well… yes.. But Nova Prime wanted this done with as few casualties as possible.”

There was a collective groan in response.

“I believe that woman enjoys taking the fun out of things,” came Drax’s dissatisfied grumble.

Peter rubbed at the back of his head, “Yeah well, she's trying to keep her hands clean.”

“I thought that was why she sent us rather than her precious Nova officers,” Rocket commented.

“..Damn that Rigellian.”

“Peter,” Gamora cut in before Rocket and Drax could continue, “the plan?”

He nodded in thanks. “Right, so simple version is we go in, get out and kill when necessary. Then get back to the ship and fly away with the relic.”

Silence followed his words.

Rocket looked at him in bewilderment, “That's it? That's your plan?”

“The simple version, yeah.”

“That's not a plan Quill!” His fellow Guardian shouted. “Not even 12% of a plan! We're all gonna die!”

“I must agree with the furry one, Friend Quill,” Drax spoke with a furrowed brow.

He crossed his arms, “That's why I said _simple version_ , you guys always tune me out when I try and explain the full plan!”

“Well yeah ‘cause you talk too much!” Rocket spouted.

“Because some plans are in depth and require a lot of attention! So I have to go over a lot, that's not my fault. You guys have the attention span of a squirrel.”

Drax narrowed his gray eyes, “Do not _ever_ call me a squirrel.”

Peter groaned in exasperation, “Metaphor!”

“I do not like your metaphors.”

“I ain't no ske-worl, jackass,” Rocket said with bared teeth. “And I hate your plan.”

“I haven't even told you what the plan is yet!”

“HEY!”

The three men winced at Gamora’s shout, looking to her in disdain.

She was visibly ruffled by their bickering. “We don't have time for this, now you two shut up and let him explain the plan thoroughly.” Her sharp gaze found Peter and narrowed in warning, “And _you_ had better have a solid plan.”

There was another period of silence but both Drax and Rocket looked to their leader expectantly.

The ship jolted suddenly, signaling that they had made touchdown. It coaxed a hasty explanation from Peter.

“The thing we are looking for is some kind of Xandarian relic. Nova Prime described it as a chalice of ancestral significance-”

“What is a chalice?” Drax questioned.

“A fancy cup more or less,” Peter replied quickly. “Their scout team reported that these bastards have the thing on lockdown which probably means Rocket is going to have to hack some kind of security system.”

“Or I can blow it up,” he said with a shrug.

“We need to save the thing, not blow it up,” Peter reminded him, though not unkindly. “Drax, Gamora, I want you guys taking care of the outside so we can hopefully have a smooth escape. Rocket and I are gonna be inside to get the relic and get out before we attract too much attention. If you need to bolt, do it, we have our coms so we can communicate what's going on. This is probably gonna turn into a shit show real quick, but that's nothing we can't handle.”

They all nodded in response, varying degrees of confidence showing on their faces.

“Remember to aim for knocking out and incapacitating, not killing. There's inevitably going to be casualties, let's just make sure it's not one of us.”

“We are yet a bit inexperienced as a team,” Drax said, “but we are each on our own formidable and as a team we are nigh unstoppable. The fight against Ronan proved this.”

Peter smirked and nodded resolutely. “Couldn't have said it better myself. Let's do this.”

They each went to their own little areas to gather their weapons and gadgets.

“Quill, catch,” Rocket called as he tossed one of his newly designed portable jet packs to Peter. The things retracted into their disk form easily - having studied Peter’s helmet had really helped that process along - but as far as sustainable flight, they were a bit patchy yet. There were still some flukes that needed worked out, so who better to test the latest modifications than their admittedly reckless leader? He was determined to get them perfect.

“This isn't gonna catch on fire again is it?” The blonde couldn't help but ask. He had already lost a couple favored shirts to Rocket’s tinkering, he'd hate to lose another.

“No, I changed some things so that it catchin’ fire would be pretty damn hard to do.”

He grunted in approval and let it envelope his chest. A small breath escaped him when he realized the sizing too had been adjusted. The last edition had been quite uncomfortable for him. He could only hold such information in a positive light.

“Everyone have their coms? Wavelength 6106,” Gamora called out.

Peter quickly set his, thankful for the reminder. He may be the unofficial leader of the Guardians, but Gamora was definitely the one who always made sure they had their shit together. “Remember stun weapons,” he said, more towards Rocket.

The fuzzy mammal sneered at him but reached for his other gun that was much less deadly. “Spoilsport,” he muttered.

With his boot thrusters strapped in, his bag over his shoulder and blasters in hand, Peter dubbed himself ready. A quick glance at the rest of the team let him know they were too.

He let his eyes trail up towards the bridge momentarily and then tossed a look at Rocket. “Should we tell Groot we’re going?”

“Nah, he’ll be anxious waitin’ then and won't sleep anymore,” Rocket said, cocking his gun. “Just let him sleep, we’ll be back before he wakes up.”

With a shrug, Peter opened the back ramp of the ship and pressed the button for his mask to activate. “Let's get this over with,” he said with a grin obvious in his voice.

The ramp shut behind them and they settled into mission mode. The land was very rocky, jagged edges poked out randomly at all angles. Drax had paused several time to admire their sharpness, commenting that they would make lovely daggers if the rock proved durable.

It didn't take long to come up on the compound which was, quite literally, littered with guards. They weren't any pushovers either - some of them were more muscled than Drax was.

“What the hell is so important about this damn chalice?” Rocket questioned as he beheld all of the people lurking outside.

“I don't know, but if we get it back in its current condition, Nova Prime promised 70000 units,” Peter whispered back.

The grin that lit up the smaller Guardian’s face was deadly. “Alright then, guess we got a dainty cup to rescue.”

Drax let out a loud roar and jumped down to begin fighting without any warning. As the sound of him laying a hit on one of the guards rang in the air, it was followed by his excited laughter.

“Why won't he stop doing that!?” Gamora yelled as she followed him down.

Peter nudged Rocket and began moving around behind the cover of the various rocks in order to get closer to the doorway that led inwards. The makeshift duo managed to get to the edge of the building before there were spotted.

“CKUHAR!” Came a disgusting shout, spittle flying from the alien’s mouth.

Rocket growled and shot off a few shock pulses in his direction. “Damn pest, you should really lemme kill him.”

“No, just knock the bastard out!” He peered over the rock they were hiding behind and let out a muffled curse. Two shock pulses from any of Rocket’s guns could knock anyone out, but apparently not this Rhykar.

Peter shot to a stand and landed six hits to the guy, and was shocked to see it had done nothing.

Rocket let out another loud growl and fired openly at the tremendously sized Rhykar. He grunted when the guard fell down to the ground, dead. “Take a dirt nap, ya big bastard,” he said with distaste. “Come on, Quill.”

Part of him felt bad for having to kill the guy, but the other half of him knew that it would've ultimately be necessary. That particular race wasn't known for going down easily. Shoving the feeling down to focus, Peter followed hastily after his fast moving comrade.

Surprisingly the inside of the facility was rather plain and unguarded. They easily found the chalice which was in an intricate looking glass case.

Peter looked at it curiously, hitting the button to retract his mask. “So? Think you can get it out easily?”

Rocket scoffed, tapping away at a little control panel, “Please, this'll be easier than that Oskien prison,”

Deciding to keep busy, Peter stood near the door, listening intently for any kind of company.

 _“Peter! More incoming, they have drop ships,”_ Gamora sounded over the coms.

“Noted,” he answered immediately, “you two doing alright out there?” He could just make out the sound of Drax shouting and laughing in the background.

 _“Fine,”_ she said shortly. _“Drax seems to be keeping busy.”_

Peter chuckled, looking down the hallway again, “Yeah, I figured he would. Pretty sure he was getting bored. He using his blades?”

 _“No he has been fighting with his fists. Apparently he is also adept in kicking as he has knocked a few out that way.”_ Gamora paused again and the sound of a loud thump followed. _“What's the situation like in there?”_

“Boring; Rocket’s getting the chalice. I think all the guards were stationed outside-” Just then he noticed another large Rhykar coming through the door. “Son of a bitch…” He muttered, “I just jinxed myself again.”

_“Peter?”_

He wanted to shoot some sort of wisecrack at her but the incoming monstrosity spotted him. “Gotta go - damn Rhykar!” He switched off his end of the com, trying to ignore her calling to him. “H-Hey big guy,” he greeted with a nervous edge in his voice.

The hulking alien glared at him and stomped forward a few more steps.

It was an intimidation tactic - and damn if it didn’t work. Peter instinctively stepped back as the large man stepped up to him.

His next few steps were interrupted when he promptly… face planted?

Peter stared in disbelief, shock running him through him. “Okay….”

“I AM GROOT!” Came a familiar call.

“Groot!” He gaped, “What are you doing here?!” It was then he noticed the almost invisible vines wrapped about the alien’s ankles.

The little tree grinned and started down the hall to him.

Fear struck him like a kick in the gut as the fallen Rhykar slowly rose, turning behind him to see what had hit him. He bolted forward and blasted him a couple times in an effort to get his attention away from Groot. His heartbeat thudded loudly in his ears. All of his thoughts were isolated to keeping his unexpected helper safe.

He scooped up Groot’s small form in his hand as soon as he was close enough, and backed away, shooting shot after shot at his adversary. “Shit, shit, _shit_! Rocket!”

Rocket turned to him in annoyance, “What?”

“Take care of Groot!” Peter shouted in a rising panic. He gently but hastily handed Groot over so he could focus his attentions on the Rhykar that was now on his feet.

“You little shit! What are you doin’ here?!” He heard Rocket growl out.

“I am Groot.”

Peter continued his assault, beginning to feel it was a fruitless venture. His heart sunk as the large alien continued to advance, a vicious smirk taking his face.

“QUILL MOVE!”

He leapt off to the side immediately as Rocket blasted the Rhykar back with a focused blaster shot. Silence followed. Peter sat up from where he had landed on the floor, “You get him?”

“Oh yeah, he’s dead,” Rocket confirmed. His amber gaze shifted to the rather content looking tree on his shoulder. “Don’t look so damn pleased, you’re still in trouble.”

“I am Groot…”

“He could've handled it without your help, tiny.”

Groot looked disgruntled and crossed his arms. He looked at Peter who had risen to his feet and gestured vaguely in his direction, “I am Groot!”

Rocket shook his head, “No no, you're not gonna be protected by him again. He was fine witho-”

“I am Groot.”

“I don't care what you did, you were almost crushed by-”

“I am Groot,” the small tree said with a smile.

Rocket gave up, growling to himself.

Peter patted a single finger on Groot’s head, “Yeah thanks buddy, but you freaked me out. I thought you were gonna get hurt.”

Groot latched onto his hand with little vines, a large grin on his face.

Unable to resist the adorable display, the leader of the Guardians let out a soft sigh and lifted Groot to his shoulder. “Hold on tight, okay?”

“I am Groot.”

He glanced back at his furry companion, “You got the relic?”

“Yeah I got it, where am I puttin’ it?” Rocket looked irritated, “Can't exactly shoot when I have this thing in my hands.”

Peter knew he couldn't put it in his bag in fear of it breaking. Yet holding ridiculously fragile looking chalice seemed to pose just as much a risk to it. “Uhh maybe Groot can hold onto it?”

Hearing his name, Groot waved.

Rocket looked a bit unsure but shrugged, “I guess.. Hopefully he don’t drop the damn thing.”

“I am Groot,” the little tree said with a grin, extending out branches to reach for the chalice.

“I know ya got steady hands, doesn’t make me feel any better though!”

Peter quirked a grin at that, “Hey man, if he says he’s got it, I trust him. He did trip a freaking Rhykar after all.”

Groot patted the half terran’s shoulder, “I am Groot.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

Mentally, he couldn't help but be proud of himself for getting better and better at understanding Groot’s three word language. He had been picking it up more and more as the, now miniaturized, Flora colossus regrew and began speaking more. The first month had been full of grunts and squeaks rather than words, then he had grown bigger and began speaking again. His ‘words’ were still a bit basic speechwise but that only made it easier to decipher. The signs that he would be back to his old self soon enough was a relief to everyone on the team, though it didn't mean they weren't enjoying his childlike nature now.

“Let's go shoot stuff,” Rocket declared, starting down the hallway, “Gamora and Drax don't deserve all the fun.”

“Alright, hold on Groot.” He strode after his companion after allowing his rider a chance to grasp onto his jacket.

Outside was absolute mayhem - Gamora and Drax were fighting what had become an army of various races. They were absolutely surrounded.

“Shit! Rocket, get down there and take care of some of them! I'm taking to the air!” He switched on his com, “‘Mora, we’re out and coming to help, just keep going.”

 _“About time!”_ She said scathingly.

Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “Hey, you could've radioed me at any time.”

 _“I tried - you didn't respond,”_ Gamora hissed.

“Ohh… my bad.” Was his sheepish reply. With a practiced motion, he activated his mask and took to the air, jetpack working smoothly. Peter shot towards the outskirts of the crowd that had formed around Gamora and Drax, aiming carefully so as not to hit them. A movement off to one side caught his attention. Rocket was making quick work of a large number of enemies, Peter could only hope he was stunning them rather than killing them.

“I am Groot! I am Groot!”

He snapped his head to where a twiggy hand was pointing and desperately swerved to avoid the huge plasma blast that came his way. “Holy shit!” He shot in the Kree’s general direction and tried to find somewhere to land.

Groot tugged on some of his hair frantically, “I AM GROOT!”

Someone behind? Peter couldn't turn fast enough, or move quick enough. A ball of plasma suddenly caught him in the side. A strangled cry broke free from him as he jolted forward dangerously. The small weight on his shoulder vanished.

“Groot!”

He fought through the pain and dove forward to catch the other, bringing him in close to his chest when he had Groot’s little body in his hand. “I gotcha, I gotcha,” he assured him when he noticed the faint trembling in his form.

The jetpack shuddered and then stopped.

“Son of a-” Peter cursed, hastily jamming the button for his boot thrusters to turn on. Luckily, since he had dived to catch Groot, they were much closer to the ground. He shot some other Kree that were aiming in his direction and landed, stumbling slightly as he did.

“I am Groot..?” Came the concerned question.

He groaned quietly, holstering one of his blasters so as to keep a hand on Groot who was still nestled into him. “I'll be alright,” he told Groot with a slight grimace. The odd thought hit him that he was glad he hadn't worn his favorite jacket out, as his current one had a burn straight through the side. “Ugh I'd like to avoid that in the future.”

The little tree in his grasp nodded fervently, “I am Groot.”

_“Hey Star Shit, we've cleared a path to the ship. Where the hell are ya?”_

Peter straightened from where he had been bent and clutching at his wound. With a couple deep breaths, he managed to move forward. “Currently hiding out behind a rock, Groot fell off my shoulder and I had to dive to get him.”

Rocket was quiet a moment, _“He okay? Still got that cup?”_

“Yes and yes, he's just a bit freaked out. So I'm holding him now. Also your damn jetpack puttered out again.”

 _“What did you do this time?”_ Rocket muttered through the com.

Peter scoffed, “I don't know, guess you got more adjustments to make though.”

_“Well never mind that, get your ass over here, path is closin’ up!”_

_“Peter you need to hurry, we have more incoming!”_ Gamora urged alongside Rocket.

“Alright already! I'm coming. Give me two minutes,” he grumbled, making himself move faster. The wound on his side ached and burned fiercely, making him wonder just how extensive the damage might be.

“I am Groot?”

“I dunno,” Peter answered, “this hurts worse than I think it should.”

That made the sapling look at him with open concern, his little brow furrowed slightly. “I am Groot!” He pointed down at the ground.

He shook his head, “I can't rest buddy, I need to get to them before our opportunity closes.”

Groot appeared upset but remained quiet and instead settled for watching him closely for signs of distress.

“Alma ckuhar resh!”

“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” Peter whispered out in dread. He turned to find a massive Rhykar standing there glaring at him. Then he noticed that it wasn't quite  looking at him, but rather his precious cargo. This thing was after Groot and the chalice.

“Guys!” He called out over the com, “I need help over here!” Fighting the hulking alien wasn't an option, so he stood straighter and ran.

 _“What? Where!?”_ Gamora shouted back quickly.

Peter didn't answer immediately because he wasn't even sure where he was in relation to them. He heard the sound of a blaster powering up behind him and knew he was screwed. He slammed the button for his thrusters and flew haphazardly through the air. Even as he managed to get further from kill range, he knew he wasn't safe.

_“We see you, Friend Quill!”_

_“Hang on ya idiot!”_

_“We’re coming Peter!”_

Then he felt it - another white hot flood of agony - and damn if the bastard Rhykar hadn't hit his already injured side. The breath was knocked from his lungs. He lost his balance in the air and collided with a nearby rocky face. His body crumpled to the ground and he couldn't find the strength to stop his descent. He lay on his back breathlessly for what felt like an eternity.

“I am Groot!”

Peter couldn't help but feel proud that he had managed to keep Groot out of harm's way. “You okay?” He wheezed out.

The little tree appeared in front of his face, eyes shiny with tears and deep concern written all over his face. “I am Groot,” he cried.

Behind Groot, he realized, was their enemy. He stood over them menacingly, those toad-like eyes narrowed with anger.

He bit his lip and rolled off of the little ledge he had landed on, with Groot and the chalice cupped protectively to his chest. The intense jarring his injury suffered as a result was difficult to push past. Even so, he managed to get to his feet and stumble forward; away from the enemy he knew would follow.

“CKUHARR!!”

Peter startled when the loud cry sounded almost right behind him. “Shit! Give up you asshole!” He hastily worked Groot down the front of his jacket and dumped the chalice in his bag, praying it would remain intact.

A meaty pair of arms grabbed his middle and tossed him aside like some sort of useless trinket.

Once more, the breath left his lungs. A fist met the side of his head, then his side - oh that hurt - and then his face. It didn't matter though, all that mattered was protecting Groot who was hidden from view in his jacket. There was a lull in hits, he took the chance to look at his attacker.

This Rhykar was massive in all ways; he was bulky and heavy with more muscles than Peter had thought possible. Veins throbbed on his biceps, he would've been a big hit on Terra. Though despite his mostly humanoid appearance, the definitive Rhykar head reminded him of something you might find if a buffalo mated with a snake. It wasn't pretty. Especially not with their odd vomit colored skin. Take the ugly appearance mixed with the shark teeth in their disgusting mouths, and you had yourself a Rhykar.

The Rhykar let out an odd growl-like noise and reached for the zipper of his jacket. It definitely knew where he had stuffed Groot.

“Get me a drink first,” Peter snarled as he pressed his blaster to the thing’s chest and shot. He knew it wouldn't kill him, but it did knock him back and onto the ground.

It was then that Drax leapt over some nearby rocks and took up punishing the large Rhykar. The gray man might not have even been half of his foe’s size, yet he beat the thing like he was a master fighting a novice.

“Peter!?”

He let out an airy groan in response. If there wasn't a gaping hole in his side, he'd be surprised. “Ughhhh I really don't like being on the receiving end of those damn blasters,” he muttered.

Gamora appeared at his side. “Peter! Where are you hurt?”

He lightly tapped the button for his mask to retract so as to face her directly. “Left side,” he managed to say. “Don't understand why this is hurting so much.”

She looked it over and he could just make out the flicker of concern that passed through her eyes.

Peter let out a dry chuckle, “That bad huh?” He took a few deep breaths and unzipped his jacket some to let Groot out.

The sapling immediately crawled out to give him a look over, little face worried.

“You still okay, Groot?”

“I am Groot,” he said with a slight nod. “I am Groot?”

Not wanting to worry the young tree, he flashed him a small smile, “I'll be alright, yeah.”

Gamora, as if sensing Groot’s distress, played along. “Yes, he’ll be okay with some rest. You look like you need some sleep too.”

The little tree nodded. He only just managed to stifle a yawn. “I am Groot?”

“Hey Rocket, c’mere,” Peter called, deciding to appease his companion. He hissed lowly when Gamora prodded his wound slightly.

She sent him a mildly apologetic glance in response.

Rocket bounded over in a way that was harrowingly similar to a puppy, but Peter kept his mouth shut.

“What?”

“You're on Groot duty,” he replied, “I'm afraid he's gonna get hurt with me. Plus you'll be able to get him back to the ship faster.”

The smaller Guardian grunted and grabbed Groot from him, setting him on his shoulder. “What about the cup thing?”

Peter just barely suppressed a wince as a wave of pain went through him. “Shit,” he drew out stiffly. He reached into his bag and brought out the somehow unharmed chalice.

Drax came over and eyed it, having finished dealing with the Rhykar. “This is the cup we were sent to retrieve?”

“Yup.”

He wrinkled his nose slightly. “How hideous. I wouldn't want to drink from it.”

Peter huffed a laugh and straightened. “Yeah it ain't pretty. But oh well, I smell 70000 units coming our way for this stupid thing.”

“Units have no odor, Quill,” Drax said, looking at him strangely.

“It's an expression.”

Gamora looked at him with scrutiny, “If we clear an opening can you run to the ship?”

He nodded. There wasn't any other choice after all - and he wasn't wounded badly enough that it would warrant being carried.

“Rocket, you run with him to make sure he doesn’t fall over on the way,” the green assassin instructed. While Peter’s blaster wounds weren't the worse she had ever seen, it still was enough for her to make her feel the need to seek medical attention for him. She knew some general first aid, but she was no doctor.

Rocket looked at Peter in confusion, “Wait what happened to you?”

Their leader said nothing but gestured to his side. Both Rocket and Drax couldn't help a cringe at the sight of it.

“When the hell did that happen?” He questioned.

Peter glanced down at Groot, “It was why he fell off; I got hit.”

“I thought you said the jetpack failed?” Rocket challenged, arms crossed.

“Yeah, that happened too,” was the nonchalant reply.

“Oh.”

Gamora looked back at them from where she had been scouting the way to get to the Milano. “Are we ready?”

Drax was already grinning. “I am ready to crash through our adversaries.”

She rolled her eyes and gave Peter a meaningful look to which he nodded. She returned the gesture after a moment. “Let's go!”

Together, they leapt from their hiding spot and through the small piles of unconscious foes. There were a growing number of incoming enemies, but they ignored them in favor of escaping.

Every step was agony to Peter. Every footfall jarred his side and renewed the deep burning pain. He pushed through it, trying to numb himself from it all. “Come on, come on,” he told himself.

Rocket glanced up at him, immediately noticing how much his face had paled. “Just a little further Quill,” he urged, “don't be quittin’ now!”

“Blaster fire!” Drax shouted behind them.

Both of them instinctively ducked behind some cover to avoid getting hit.

“So this is fun,” Peter breathed.

Rocket grunted, unamused.

“Though,” he added, “it's a lot better bring the ones who are shooting.” He furrowed his brow a bit as the pain returned. “I need to keep moving, or my adrenaline is gonna wear off,” Peter murmured with weariness heavy in his voice.

That definitely got his furry companion’s attention. “Don't be so dramatic, Quill. You're not dyin’.”

“How do you know?”

He rolled his eyes, “Most of your wound got cauterized by plasma burn, so at least you're not bleedin’ out.”

Peter scoffed, “No just means I might be bleeding out internally, no biggy.”

Rocket eyed him warily, “Do you feel like you're bleedin’ out?”

“I dunno man, I just know I'm steadily feeling weaker and I don't like it.” His head was pounding from the hit it had taker earlier - he wondered vaguely if he had gotten a minor concussion from the ordeal.

Looking at their leader closely, Rocket realized that his face was minutely scrunched up with pain and that he was breathing surprisingly hard. He didn't understand what was causing it but knew it couldn't be good. “Well I see some of the Milano so we’re close,” he said finally, “don't make me drag your ass back to it.”

Peter quirked a wane smile at that, “Don't think you could manage that.”

“Exactly.”

“Go! They're hesitating!” Gamora shouted out.

Needing no further prompting, Peter and Rocket shot up and forward, running at full speed in order to reach the Milano. Drax and Gamora were right on their heels. The blaster fire continued once they were spotted, but by then they managed to duck out of the way and into the ship.

“Rocket, take this damn thing, I'm getting us out of here,” Peter ordered him, half throwing the chalice to him before scaling up to the bridge.

He easily settled into the pilot’s chair and started up his ship. By then, their enemies had followed enough to see the Milano and were shooting at it. “Bastards!” Peter cursed, shooting out a few missiles that Rocket had installed not that long ago. He cranked into drive, racing up and away from the planetoid. When they left the atmosphere, Peter allowed himself to sag with relief, groaning in pain as he did.

With a few gentle taps on his control pad, he was able to set the Milano on autopilot with a course for Xandar. Someone else could alert Nova Prime that they had succeeded in their mission.

Peter heaved out some deep breaths. His brow furrowed as the pain settled in and his feeling of weakness returned with a hint of dizziness. His head _ached_ , almost enough to make him physically ill. “Ohhh man, I'm feeling it now…”

“You okay, Quill?” Rocket asked from somewhere behind him.

“Define ‘okay’,” he huffed, resisting the urge he felt to clutch his side. “If by okay, you mean in serious pain and feeling really weak and dizzy - then sure. I'm okay.”

“I..am Groot..?” Came a sleepy murmur.

“He’ll be fine, I'll get Gamora to look at him. You stay here and sleep, you idiot,” Rocket told the little tree gruffly.

“Where is G’mora?” Peter asked suddenly.

“I dunno,” Rocket dismissed as he made sure Groot settled into bed, “said somethin’ about yellin’ at Drax.”

“Ahh yeah, she was kinda pissed.”

He approached their injured leader slowly, trying to fight the hints of concern that had hit him unexpectedly. “C’mon Quill, we need to get those injuries taken care of.”

Peter looked at him with clear exhaustion on his face. “Yeah… I guess so..” was his breathy reply. He felt so weak. Something had to be wrong.

Rocket nudged him, “Quill.”

He blinked his eyes open - when had they closed? - and shook himself a bit. “I'm coming, I'm coming,” he mumbled. It proved to be a ridiculously difficult task to get out of his chair and onto his feet. “Man I feel gross.”

“Look it too.”

The familiar banter with his small comrade brought a smile to his lips. “Not as much as you, look at how crazy your fur looks right now.” He managed to get himself over to the ladder to descend to the main level of the Milano but paused at the top.

Rocket huffed, “Says the dumb humie who’s three seconds from passin’ out.”

“Mmph,” he snorted, “mm still prettier than you.”

The sudden slur to his words was definitely concerning. Rocket eyed him carefully, wondering if letting Quill go down was a safe idea seeing as he didn't seem to be stable on his feet.

As if reading his mind, Peter carefully got himself onto the ladder, “Mm alright Rocky, had worse th’nn this.” He was halfway down when he was hit by a fierce dizzy spell and it left him reeling.

“Pete! Hang on ya idiot!”

Suddenly another voice joined Rocket’s. Warm hands guided him down and maneuvered him into their makeshift infirmary. Names were lost to him like papers to the wind, though he knew he was among friends.

“Rest, Star Lord, we’ll take it from here,” a strong female voice told him.

The team could only watch as their unofficial leader fell into unconscious. It was clear to see that it wasn't deep but just enough for his mind to have switched off, so to say.

“Now what?” Rocket pushed, clearly uneasy seeing the half Terran in such a state.

“Now we care for his wounds and transport him to a care center if necessary,” Drax declared in a noticeably softer tone than usual. “Though I do not believe his injuries to be so severe.”

“Never know with these damn humies,” their furred teammate grumbled. “Weakest race in the galaxy, I swear. Always actin’ like they're on their deathbed.”

Gamora waved the medical reader over Peter, waiting for it to analyze the results. She hummed absently as she read it over. “Seems he was bleeding internally, though it has stopped, otherwise he needs rest and some antiseptic on the wounds themselves.”

Drax nodded to himself, “Which means we shall have to watch for infection but that is nothing we can't handle.”

“It also says he has heavy bruising on his head and face,” she glanced up and grimaced slightly. “Yes they'll be more apparent soon enough.”

Rocket growled low in his throat, “My bet is on that Rhykar that had him cornered. Bastard.”

“I wish I had broken his neck,” Drax muttered, moving off some.

Gamora ignored them as she worked on getting Peter’s top half undressed so as to properly care for the blaster wounds. He grumbled slightly at her slightly rough approach to it, but remained unconscious. Seeing the cauterized and yet angry red skin made her realize how lucky the idiot had been - yet again.

Wordlessly Drax came back over and held Peter up, then gave her a look telling her to get with it.

She scowled but began sanitizing the injured flesh, brow furrowing when Peter groaned in response. He was unconscious but could clearly still feel everything.

Rocket was at her side with bandages clutched in his paws, ready for her to grab when she needed them.

It was a team effort. One that she couldn't help but think Peter would be proud of them for.

In just 20 minutes they had him patched up and in a new shirt, laying on his good side on one of the sofas they had on board. They stood back and observed their handiwork with scrutiny.

“Only one thing missin’,” Rocket grumbled as he rooted through Peter’s shoulder bag. He easily found what he was looking for - the Walkman - and hastily secured the earphones on Peter’s head, snapping the cassette into play soon after.

The effect was instant. The half Terran sagged as total relaxation took his form and the first few notes of ELO sounded quietly.

Gamora allowed herself a smile as their leader’s brow smoothed out. “Good thinking,” she commented.

Clearly not wanting to be caught being sentimental, Rocket scoffed and stalked off. “Whatever, I'd scrap the thing if he wouldn't throw me off the damn ship for it..”

The assassin shook her head fondly and went up into the bridge where Groot was resting peacefully.

Drax lingered nearby but busied himself caring for his already pristine blades.

Peter was awake by the time My Sweet Lord came on. He lowered his headphones to rest around his neck and carefully raised himself into a sitting position.

“Your wounds look more severe than they are,” his fellow Guardian told him calmly.

He huffed a laugh, “Yeah I figured, gonna hurt like a bitch for a while though.”

Drax looked a bit perplexed but accepted his words, recognizing them from when his comrade had used them in the past. “Seeing as you no longer require someone at your side, I shall retire. You should rest more, Friend Quill. Only rest will allow your body to mend.”

“I hear you, Drax, go sleep already,” Peter said with a small smile, “thanks for babysitting.”

Again the bulky man looked confused by his terminology but merely shook his head and continued to his sleeping quarters.

The softness of My Sweet Lord tapered off, and with it, Peter decided to pause the music for a bit. His head was aching and experience has taught him that his beloved tunes only amplified the effects of his pain; sad as it was.

“Decided not to be a waste of space, huh?” A familiar voice snarked.

He raised a brow in response.

Rocket was fiddling with something but looking at him with an unimpressed gaze. “Can't have your stupid ass out like a light when we deliver that cup. Nova Prime would not like that.”

Peter shrugged absently, “Yeah well I protected Groot, so shaddup.”

His furred companion had no reply for that. He continued fiddling, however, muttering to himself as he went.

He smirked to himself at having successfully silenced his rather vocal teammate. Such instances were few and far in between. And even though they had only been a team for about three months, Peter had learned quickly to appreciate those times.

His thoughts drifted to Groot and his new mobility. It had only been recently that the little tree had grown enough to be mobile. He hadn't really been trouble since being up and about again, but he definitely had been glued to everyone. Groot had hated being left on the ship so much, and they had sometimes returned to him crying which had torn at all of them. Peter could already tell that now he would insist on accompanying them out on missions. If they didn't take him, the mission would happen again like it had this time - Operation: Get It and Get Out (GIGO) had become Operation: Protect Baby Groot (PBG).

Rising from his seat, Peter carefully made his way up to the bridge where Gamora was looking over something or other and Groot was slumbering peacefully in his ‘bed’. He looked over their littlest member with a smile.

Not a mark was to be seen on him. He was still whole and unharmed.

“..I am Groot…?”

“Hey buddy,” Peter greeted softly, “it's alright, go back to sleep.”

“I am Groot?” The sapling asked, looking at him with sleep hooded eyes.

He nodded, “Yep, I'm okay. Sleep now.”

Groot offered little protest at the request. Though as he slipped back asleep, his face was relaxed and a smile was on his lips.

“I am usually hard pressed to call anything cute,” Peter murmured to Gamora, “but with him, it's hard to think of anything else.”

She offered him a quick smile in return, “Yes, I've noticed a similar dilemma within myself.”

He grinned, “Little rascal got us wrapped around his finger.” The blonde settled into the pilot’s chair and checked their travel progress.

“How much longer?” Gamora asked.

“Not much, half hour or so,” Peter replied easily, resituating himself to take pressure off of his wounds. He tossed the innocent looking chalice that sat nearby a look of distaste. “I'll be glad to get rid of this. Got injured for the damned thing..”

She eyed him carefully, “Was it worth it?”

Peter chuckled, “For 70000 units? Hell yeah it was.”

And it was, they had gotten in and out with relative ease all things considered. Limited casualties, minor injuries, intact chalice and Groot was unharmed despite being in the midst of it all. It hadn't been without rough patches, but it still could've been _way_ worse.

 

\--

 

They had no sooner landed on Xandar and handed over the relic when Nova Prime gave them their next assignment. After a quick refueling and supply grab, they were off to their next mission.

It was a unanimous agreement that from then on, Groot would be brought along so as to prevent him following them out and getting injured in the process.

Groot was pleased to say the least.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo anyone notice that the radio channel they used (6106) upside down would be as close to GOTG you could get with numbers..? ...No? Oh... Okay then. -hides in corner-
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, tell me what you thought?
> 
> ~Ghosties


End file.
